[Hook: Curtis Mayfield]Add a little sugar, honeysuckle andA great big expression of happinessBoy, you couldn't miss with a dozen rosesSuch would astound youThe joy of children laughing around youThese are all the makings of you

[Verse 1: Kanye West]I do it for the forefathers, yeah, the street authorsThat are now A&Rs in the cheap officeRappers that never got signed but they keep offersGirls that's way too fine for us to keep off usGave her a handshake only for my man’s sakeShe in her birthday suit cause of the damn cakeNow there’s crumbs all over the damn placeAnd she want me to cum all over her damn faceI never understood planned parenthoodCause I never met nobody planned to be a parent in the hoodTaking refills of that Plan B pillAnother shorty that won’t make it to the family willIf I don’t make it, can’t take it, hope the family willThey ain't crazy, they don’t know how insanity feelDon C just had a shorty, so it’s not that badBut I still hear the ghosts of the kids I never had

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Kanye West]No electro, no metro, a little retro, ahh, perfectoYou know the demo, your boy act wildYou ain't get the memo? Yeezy’s back in styleNow one room got Gidget, the other got BridgetWhat’s more tripped out, dawg, is they sistersNah, you ain't listen, they black, they "sistas"They momma named them after white bitchesSo next time you see me on your fallopianThough the jewelry’s Egyptian, know the hunger’s EthiopianStupid questions like “Is he gon' be dope again?Have you seen him? has anybody spoke to him?”This beat deserves Hennessey, a bad bitchAnd a bag of weed; the Holy TrinityIn the mirror where I see my only enemyYour life’s cursed, well mine’s an obscenity

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Jay-Z]This is my momma shit; I used to hear thisThrough the walls in the hood when I was back in my pajama shitAfros and marijuana sticks, seeds in the ganja had itPopping like the sample that I’m rhyming withPete Rock, let the needle dropI seen so much as a kid they surprised I don’t needle popTaking sips of pop's six pack of Miller nipsPink Champale, Ballantine AleBally’s on my feet help me balance out wellThat and the shit I used to balance on the scaleI got it honest from the parties from my momma’sVirgin Marys try to judge herI’m like “Where the Madonnas now?”Give all glory to GloriaThey said “you raised that boy too fast," but you was raising a warriorWe victorious, they’ll never take the joy from us, uh